Hollow Point
by Gunner Palace
Summary: United States Air Force A1C Ichigo Kurosaki wanted to get away. Against all odds he's assigned to Security Forces at Yokota Air Base, under an hour from home. Seirei-gumi Yakuza family "Older Sister" Rukia Kuchiki wanted to fit in. Dispatched to Karakura, she discovers a plot to overturn Japan's criminal underworld. Their chance meeting is anything but. Written for IRBB 2016–7.
1. Neon Rain

**[ A/N:** Hi, and thanks for reading! **]**

 **[** United States Air Force A1C Ichigo Kurosaki wanted to get away. Against all odds he's assigned to Security Forces at Yokota Air Base, under an hour from home. Seirei-gumi Yakuza family "Older Sister" Rukia Kuchiki wanted to fit in. Dispatched to Karakura, she discovers a plot to overturn Japan's criminal underworld. Their chance meeting is anything but, and they'll only survive the web of lies cast over Tokyo's concrete jungle by sticking together. **]**

 **[** As you might guess from the summary, this fic occurs in an alternate universe, modern day, no-powers setting. It's basically a retelling of _Bleach_ in a "realistic" scenario. **]**

 **[** This fic is rated M for adult themes and situations, and will contain depictions of intimacy. The chapters containing it will be labeled as such, as will chapters featuring sauciness. If you're not okay with that, I advise you don't continue. **]**

 **[** I started writing this for IRBB (IchiRuki Big Bang) 2016–2017 and was able to work with the wonderful **juujishou** on some art for it! Also, a special shout-out to **synoshian** , **sequencefairy** , and **duckiesteasmiles** for beta-reading the first three chapters! It's also available on AO3, and there's a link to the art post there. **]**

 **[** _Bleach_ is copyright to Tite Kubo, Shueisha, et al. I make no claim of ownership of it and this story is intended purely for non-commercial purposes. **]**

* * *

 **Tuesday, August 17, 2004**

Neon rain fell in sporadic sheets, always hot. Asphalt steamed, glowing with rippling prismatic bands. Every color of the rainbow coruscated, glinting off umbrellas—mostly clear plastic—that hurried to and fro.

A white and lilac _wagasa_ parasol advanced steadily through the bustle. It bore an unseasonable lunar crescent of snowflakes and was lit from below by carefully concealed soft white LEDs.

Rukia strode beneath it with poise and grace, immune to the heat and humidity. Civilians flowed by her on instinct, like schools of fish about a predator. She wore a Western-style two-piece suit—a black jacket and slacks—and the collar of her white blouse rested open above the former's lapels.

To all appearances she made for a plausible—if rather short—office lady, yet her bearing alone suggested something was off. If one looked carefully, her dress shoes hinted at the story. However, the _wagasa_ , and especially the oversized pink pair of almost-oval shades she had on, really advertised what she was—the street was lit up, but the sun had set almost two hours before.

It wasn't long before she passed yet another nondescript alleyway leading off the thoroughfare. Her shoes splashed in a puddle that echoed in optical riot as she halted. She turned and trekked into the gloom, taking off her sunglasses and letting her parasol light the way. It was soon the only source of illumination, silhouetting her as she disappeared around a corner and vanished from the night.

* * *

Rukia looked directly at Kiyone. "A... transfer order?" But, she had her crew to attend to, and...

Kiyone gave a small laugh and took on a bemused expression, waving a hand in front of her to dismiss the idea. "No, no, no! It's nothing as big as a transfer! It's only a temporary mission. Like the one you did when you first came here! Only that!"

Rukia blinked and shifted back against the leather couch as she looked down in thought. "Ehhh..."

Kiyone leaned forward incredulously. "How can you not remember?!"

"You probably got her into something where she got hit on the head and forgot, right, Kuchiki!?" Sentarō jibed.

"What?! Shut up!" Kiyone roared, "Just get out of here and go walk off the Sumitomo Building or something!"

"The place you're being dispatched to is a Western Tokyo town named Karakura..." a new voice interrupted. Ukitake entered the room with a smile. "With your abilities, it shouldn't be difficult at all."

Rukia promptly stood in surprise and so did Kiyone, while Sentarō whirled. " _Aniki_!" they each proclaimed.

Kiyone made it the farthest, holding out her hands as if to usher Ukitake back out. "You ought to be resting!"

"Oh, no, I feel good today," Ukitake explained. "Besides, although it's only temporary, I thought Kuchiki would be worried, so I came here to send her off myself."

Rukia's eyes widened. She dropped, her hands thumping on the floor in front of her as she bowed low. "Thank you very much!"

Ukitake gave her a friendly, if chagrined, look. "You don't have to be so formal. Have you told Byakuya?" He knew she'd been informed of the fact of the mission a week prior, but not about its nature.

Rukia looked up. "Ah... no, not yet—hmm..." She trailed off as she thought of her brother's usual reaction to her news.

Ukitake's expression sobered as he saw the light in her eyes dim.

"I think... _aniki_ would tell me not to inform him of such insignificant things. So, I'd rather go... without telling him," Rukia stated, casting her gaze down.

"Well," Ukitake began, advancing toward her and dropping into a crouch, "that's okay."

Rukia blinked at him.

He forced a smile. "If that's what you want, it's alright. Let me tell Byakuya instead. Don't worry about it!"

Kiyone and Sentarō put on a show of looking elsewhere in deference while still discretely listening.

Rukia stared for a moment before nodding. "Yes!"

Ukitake's smile grew wider as it turned genuine. He reached forward to clasp Rukia's shoulder, then stood.

She followed and respectfully bowed again before making her way out of the room. The orders in her jacket's breast pocket seemed oddly heavy—she decided it was just her imagination.

* * *

Rukia hastily retraced her path through the periodic rain. She only slowed once she was in the concrete depths of the parking garage that sheltered her customized 2003 Nissan Fairlady Z33 Touring—her baby—and finally caught sight of it gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

It had a full wide body kit, an aftermarket hood, a wing spoiler, and snowflake-patterned rims—the top was a stark titanium white that faded in a wavy _hamon_ pattern to a pearlescent white below the beltline.

Rukia made her way toward it, pulling out her keys and using the remote to unlock it. Her fingers stroked along the roof as she opened the driver's side door and slid down into the cabin, sinking into the plush leather seat and sighing as she tipped her head back against it. She shut the door and locked it. Long moments passed as she steadied her breathing.

Finally, she fished her orders out of her suit jacket and tore the letter open. She blinked as she read and scanned back over the words several times. The missive was from Ukitake himself and warned of 'recent efforts by another syndicate to expand narcotics trafficking into our territory, using a new type of drug'. She kept returning to one line in particular: 'These efforts are believed to originate from Karakura; you are to determine whether this is accurate and you are to eliminate the source, if possible.'

Her gaze hardened and she mentally reviewed her state of readiness. She had a travel bag of clothes and sundries already packed in the trunk, along with Sode no Shirayuki and her handgun. She opened the glove box and slipped the note inside. Once she shut it again she was in motion, smoothly turning the ignition. The engine rumbled to life as she programmed the GPS, starting to work the stick and pedals as she pulled out of the parking space.

* * *

Rukia was soon thundering down the Chūō Expressway to the strobe of street lights and the throaty purr of a V6, her focus laser-like, her grip certain. She precisely wove in and out of slower traffic, bearing due east just slightly off-center from Mt. Fuji—not that it was visible given the cloud cover and the continuing rain showers.

The keen of the engine revved up a notch as she shifted gears and continued to accelerate. Karakura was a half-hour away, but it'd only take her twenty two minutes to make it there.

* * *

Rukia smoothly braked as the light in front of her turned red. She cast her attention from side to side as she took in the idling thrum of the engine. It was strange how much _space_ there was in Karakura. Something about it set her teeth on edge. She was increasingly aware of how much her car stood out and realized she was going to have to find somewhere to put it that was not only safe, but inconspicuous.

* * *

Half an hour later, she stood atop one of the taller buildings that made up what passed for Karakura's shopping district. She considered the town from beneath her parasol in darkness, its lights off. It was a quaint but stagnant town.

Rukia shut her eyes as she considered that the peace was a lie. Her sigh was audible over the patter of the rainfall. How was she going to find the source of the rot that had taken hold in this place?

* * *

Ichigo was the last person to shuffle out of the boarding gate. He stopped and flinched at how clammy the terminal's air conditioned atmosphere was, then stretched and yawned. His fleeting catnaps hadn't done much. He surveyed the space as he lowered his arms.

Terminal 1 of Narita International Airport was the same as when he'd left and still looked like it'd been designed by a 90s desktop fetishist. Every surface was flat, boring, and some color on the spectrum from beige to grey. The place was spottily lit and deserted.

Ichigo grimaced. With effort, he recalled the landing announcements—it was little more than an hour until the airport closed. As he turned to the large floor-to-ceiling windows he remembered it had to do with noise pollution.

The sky was raven-dark and all he could see were raindrop-blurred constellations of runway and aircraft lights. He studied them to try and divine some meaning from their patterns before turning away and shouldering his backpack.

Artificially chill, rainy, and devoid of life: the perfect welcome home greeting. It was a circumstance at least partially of his own making: he'd insisted his family not show up to greet him—it wasn't like they had a car, and it wasn't worth the expense to get there. He'd also turned down his sponsor's offer to do the same, and she'd acquiesced.

Ichigo soon entered the south wing of the terminal proper, making his way down to the second floor. He had no business with quarantine and forced himself on to immigration processing. There was no queue, so he went straight to the counter.

The woman staffing it gave him an appraising look before asking, "Hello, your passport and boarding pass, please?" in Japanese.

For a moment, Ichigo was tempted to just hand her his Japanese passport, but that might cause complications. _Stick to the script, stupid_. With a repressed sigh he placed his travel orders, active duty ID, American passport, and boarding pass on the counter, sliding them forward.

She blinked and reviewed the documents, glancing at him curiously as she did so. They were all in order and after stamping his passport she switched to English: "Thank you, Mr. Kurosaki. Welcome to Japan!"

"Yeah, thanks," he replied in Japanese.

She blinked again and smiled. "Your Japanese is very good!"

Ichigo didn't have the heart to even bother. He just nodded, taking his documentation back and heading downstairs to baggage claim.

Finding his duffel bag on the carousel was a mercifully straight-forward and short-lived experience—it was the only item still going around on the conveyer belt.

Clearing customs was uneventful. The only things he had of note beyond his clothing and uniforms were gifts for his family; their nature and value meant they were duty-free.

It was as Ichigo processed through that his mind turned to transportation. He was too tired to try and drive and it didn't matter since all the rental car services had already closed. The buses had more or less finished running too. That left taxis and the trains.

He forced himself to try and consider the cost of cab fare: it'd probably be somewhere around ¥35,000 for the fare, with a 30% late night fee... that was somewhere around $400. He scrunched up his face at the number—he hadn't spent a lot of cash during his three months in Texas, but the idea of paying that much hurt his wallet and pride alike.

Ichigo headed downstairs to Terminal 1's underground station to try his luck and found there was still one more train for the night—the last Skyliner. He managed to get the ticketing booth to tell him what other connections he needed to make along the way.

He spent his time waiting on the platform somewhere else in his mind.

When the train showed, he was one of only five people to board. He found a seat and leaned his head against the window, slipping away back to that other place.

His day had started over twenty four hours and more than ten thousand kilometers away. The whole thing had been something of a mess. He hadn't been able to secure space on the Rotator out of Seattle, so he'd taken a three and a half hour United Airlines hop from San Antonio to Los Angeles, and another twelve hour one from there to Narita, with a lot of wait time in between.

He'd been granted thirty days' leave to complete his permanent change of station, and also had his travel days. He was willing to use a few of them to see his family, so he'd gotten his sponsor to agree to meet him on Friday as his official "arrival." It wasn't a vacation, but he'd felt since he was only using a week of the allocated time, he wasn't doing anything wrong. It was just as well, as his flight had shown up too late for any of the shuttles to Yokota Air Base anyway.

Ichigo briefly focused as the train began to move, and again when it came to a brief halt at Terminal 2. Then they were away, and he was gone. He faded in and out of awareness as they shot through the countryside, sometimes catching fleeting glimpses of the lights dotting the countryside towns. They grew in number every time he saw them again. His thoughts—when he had them—stayed elsewhere or drifted to San Antonio.

Some part of him wondered if that was normal, but he'd spent three months at Lackland Air Force Base. He'd hated the place with a certainty that was vast and cool, and nursing that scorn was the only thing keeping him half-awake. His thoughts sluggishly turned to whether it was better or worse than where he was headed. The comparison lingered unfinished in his thoughts for some strange infinity before his attention was simply nowhere again.

He saw another brief snapshot as a curve jarred him: city lights, much denser, glittering like diamonds.

Ichigo jerked alert to a chime and a too-helpful voice telling him they'd arrived at Nippori Station. He blinked his eyes and ran a hand over his face before picking up his bags and getting off the train.

The station's air was neither the dank environment of Narita nor the aggressively dull room temperature of the Skyliner, but the proper stifling humidity of the Greater Tokyo Area in summertime. It instantly clung to him and seeped into his clothes in a way that was at once both more familiar and more contemptible than the Texan equivalent.

He scowled and trudged through it to the nearest ticketing booth, then on to his next train. He had to go around the core of Tokyo proper to Shinjuku Station, and from there to Naruki.

* * *

 **Wednesday, August 18, 2004**

It was a quarter-hour after midnight—hour 26—when Ichigo emerged from Nagayama Station in Naruki. He considered the light drizzle from beneath the walkway before stretching his calves. What was it that MTI Hastings had said every time he'd made them drop and do push-ups? 'Into every life a little rain must fall.' _Yeah, something like that—sir_.

While everyone else had needed to kick using titles like a bad habit at Tech School, he'd dropped using them for everyone other than proper officers like a hot rock. The abuses of Basic had been trivial; they'd never broken him. It was only when they'd started to turn the rest of his Flight against him by punishing them for his routine defiance that he'd begun to toe the line. He'd been able to take the heat, but he wouldn't make others endure it. It'd been a neat trick and he'd learned something from it—and that was why MTI Hastings, alone among all non-commissioned officers, remained 'sir.'

His lips twitched into something halfway between a sneer and a smirk as he shouldered the duffel bag and started forward into the downpour. _Sometimes you've just got to keep putting one foot in front of the other..._

* * *

Ichigo paused at the front door long enough to take a breath. He withdrew his keys and carefully unlocked it, quietly stepping inside without announcing himself. As he slipped his shoes off, he took in the flickering of the television in the living room, noticing two heads poking up from above the back of the couch. He set his bag down and slid off his backpack.

One of them turned toward the door despite his attempt at stealth.

He could tell from the scattered light it was Karin.

Her eyes immediately went wide and she glanced to Yuzu, shaking her before hopping over the back of the couch. She sprinted up to him and hugged him around the waist, burying her face against his shirt.

Yuzu wasn't far behind and latched onto him the same way. She sniffled out, " _Onii-chan_..."

Ichigo brought a hand onto the back of each of their heads and knelt down so he was at their level. "Hey."

Karin got her arms up under his while Yuzu shifted and got hers around his neck. Both brought a cheek to one of his.

"You're all wet," Yuzu murmured, trying to bring her voice under control.

"Did you walk in the rain?" Karin added.

He cast his gaze down to the floor and drew them both tighter. "Yeah."

"You could have at least called to let us know you'd landed," Isshin stated.

Ichigo looked up to find his dad regarding them all with his arms crossed and a neutral expression. He smirked internally at how reserved he was being—apparently he was being treated as a _man_ , as if he hadn't been one before.

Karin grudgingly released him and turned to face their father, planting her hands on her hips. She wasn't in the mood to see them fight.

Ichigo lightly ruffled her hair. When he spoke his tone was measured. "I would've missed my connecting trains." It wasn't really a lie.

Isshin narrowed his eyes but uncrossed his arms.

Yuzu reluctantly let go of Ichigo and turned, sniffling again and wiping at her eyes as she headed to the kitchen. "Go shower and change, I'll heat something up for you."

He stood and tracked her her progress to the kitchen. "You don't have to—"

"I'm not letting you go to bed with just airplane food in your stomach," she declared. It was clearly the last word on the matter.

Ichigo frowned before noticing Karin was already dragging his bags toward the stairs. "Oi, Karin, those are heavy!"

"No, they're not," she stated.

He followed after her and plucked the duffel bag away. "At least let me carry one."

Karin let out a "Hmph!" but continued on upstairs with his backpack.

A faint smile cracked Ichigo's expression. Maybe... maybe this wasn't the worst after all.

* * *

Ichigo picked up the office phone, peering at the number he'd written down before tapping in the keys.

It rang four times.

"It's after midnight, so this had better be important," Technical Sergeant Lisa Yadōmaru stated.

"Sorry, I thought I'd get your voice mail," Ichigo replied.

"Oh, it's you. Don't worry about it, you're my responsibility. So you made it in fine?"

"Yeah. It wasn't a problem."

There was a long pause before Lisa sighed. "You know, the lone wolf attitude doesn't impress anybody. You're too old for it to be cool."

He frowned and brushed a hand through his hair. "Who was trying to impress anyone? I just didn't want you to have to drive for hours to drop me off at my family's place!"

"Sure," she countered. "So, you're still wanting to meet at the gate on Friday morning?"

"0800 hours," he affirmed.

"I could pick you up."

"I'm telling you, it's not necessary!" he groused.

"Don't want your family getting the wrong idea?"

He frowned as his cheeks went a bit pink. He'd never seen her, but she sounded attractive. "That's not it at all!"

Lisa laughed at his obvious frustration. "Fine. I'll meet you there. We have a lot to do, so don't be late. Have a good night."

Ichigo was about to wish her the same when she hung up. He glared at the phone before resting it back on the receiver and heading back into the residential part of the building. He made a mental note that he'd probably have to pick up a cell phone.

* * *

Rukia powered off her portable printer, then did the same to her laptop, shutting it. She leaned over it and used it as a steady surface to finish assembling the fake ID she'd put together, attaching her photo to the card and then laminating it all. She studied the finished product critically before setting it on the nightstand and moving the electronics over to the same.

She gave her phone another glance to make sure she hadn't missed any messages, then flopped back onto the bed, letting out a long, resigned sigh and closing her eyes. Impersonating one of the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare's Narcotics Control Department agents was distasteful to her for a variety of reasons, but that sort of thing was her role and it'd let her ask the questions she needed to without raising too many eyebrows.

If she was lucky, it might also draw the attention of her quarry. In such an event they wouldn't be expecting something rather more vicious than law enforcement.

Eventually she rolled onto one side and pulled the covers down, crawled under them, and turned off the light.

* * *

Ichigo considered the ceiling of his room through half-open eyes. It was almost possible to forget everything that'd happened, as though he'd stayed at home the whole time. Almost. He turned his head to look out the window.

He'd been surprised—yet pleased—that Karin and Yuzu had made no effort to try and stay in his room. They were 14, after all. He closed his eyes and listened to the regular tapping of the rain. _I guess we're all getting older_.

He resolved to hand out the gifts he'd brought after breakfast, then promptly passed out from exhaustion.

* * *

Karin turned the blue Texas Rangers jersey she'd been handed over in her hands. It was emblazoned with the state's name on the front and hers on the back. "A baseball team?"

Ichigo smiled. "Yeah."

"Never heard of them," she replied, looking at him dubiously.

He rolled his eyes and produced a navy blue NASA baseball cap he'd picked up on a weekend trip to the Johnson Space Center. "Maybe you'll like this more then."

She blinked and took it, taking a moment to place the logo.

Ichigo glanced to Yuzu. She'd set aside the large bottle of barbecue sauce he'd given her and was studying her new Tex-Mex cookbook.

She noticed his attention. "Um, _onii-chan_ , I don't know that we can get a lot of the things needed for these recipes," she conjectured.

"Just think of it as a source of inspiration," he offered. He turned focus toward their dad. "Oi, old man."

Isshin lowered his newspaper slightly to look over it. "Hmm—" he began, only to barely catch something flung at his face. "Careful!" he proclaimed, then blinked and looked at what he'd caught. It was a silvered lighter emblazoned with the badge of the Texas Ranger Division.

"You'll have to refill it with lighter fluid," Ichigo advised.

Isshin looked up at him only to narrowly snag the next item with his other hand, his newspaper spilling onto the floor. He found himself holding a black felt cowboy hat.

Ichigo pushed his chair back and stood, stretching. He felt he could probably have done with some more sleep but that wasn't going to happen and would come back to bite him if he tried. "Yeah, well. I'm going out for a walk. Do you need anything?" he asked Yuzu. He might as well pick things up while he was out.

"Uh, Ichi- _nii_ , don't you have to... go to work?" Karin interjected.

"I go in on Friday." He didn't feel like explaining it all right then.

"Well, if you could pick some things up that'd be great! There's a list on the counter," Yuzu replied.

Ichigo found it. "Oh," he began as he looked it over, "is Tatsuki around?" On the flight in he'd thought about hanging out with her while he could, but it'd slipped his mind until just then.

She'd started college in early April before he'd left. He knew she was staying at home while commuting to the University of Tokyo's Komaba campus, but didn't have any idea whether she'd had summer vacation plans. He was pretty sure they wouldn't know anything about what Chad might be doing.

"She was supposed to be at a beach down south for a week but should be back already. We're going to meet up on Friday," Karin stated.

Ichigo grunted both in acknowledgement and thanks, pocketing the shopping list.

Isshin finally stopped contemplating the cowboy hat and put it on. "Hey, Karin- _chan_ , how does Daddy look?"

"Even lamer than usual," she groaned, refusing to even consider him.

Ichigo didn't stick around to take in Isshin's crestfallen expression.

* * *

Rukia squinted at the sign she spied from across the lot. Sure enough, it read 'Urahara Shop'. Her brows drew together above her dark sunglasses at the two kids sweeping in front of it. She'd never heard anything about them before.

She pushed her shades up her nose and strode across the lot toward them, halting at a conversational distance. She could see their shirts were emblazoned with the store's name.

Ururu and Jinta stopped and silently considered her. Her suit and demeanor made it clear what sort of business she was there on.

"Is the manager in?" Rukia asked.

Jinta looked from her to Ururu and back again a few times.

Rukia waited, expressionless behind glass.

Finally, Jinta turned and slid open the shop door.

Tessai stopped in his tracks, carrying a stack of boxes. "Hmph? Hey, Jinta, it's still too early for opening!"

"We had no choice! She was insistent!"

Tessai set the boxes down and considered the figure behind them with a squint, then advanced to meet her. "Kuchiki- _san_ , is it not? Please wait just a moment, I shall go and wake the manager right away."

"That's too bad. I've already woken up," Kisuke announced. He yawned mightily and rubbed at his face. "Good morning, Tessai, Jinta, Ururu." When he withdrew his hand, he wore a wry look. "And welcome, Kuchiki- _san_. What can I do for you today?"

* * *

Ichigo rubbed the back of his head. This was awkward. Karin might have told Tatsuki he was coming home as soon as she'd found out, right after he'd left that morning, at any point in between, or not at all. The last possibility was the worst of all.

As he thought about it he wondered if the fact she hadn't mentioned whether she'd told Tatsuki or not was deliberate. He probably should've asked. He also should've told her himself. Karin would probably say it was his just desserts. _Shit._

He blew out a breath before ringing the doorbell. He forced himself not to shuffle in the interim.

After a short while the door unlocked and opened to reveal Tatsuki. She'd changed her hair and had it styled in a wavy, chin-length layered bob. She'd also gotten a modest but notable tan and was wearing her usual sort of clothes—a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. The moment she saw him, she openly stared.

As the seconds dragged out he tried a sheepish smile. "Uh, hey."

She blinked before stepping forward and hugging him.

Ichigo was still hesitating about returning it when she socked him in the solar plexus and pushed herself back using the leverage her fist afforded her.

"Ass," she muttered, turning away from him. The last she'd heard, she might not see him for years, or _ever_ if something happened. Finding him standing there was like seeing a ghost.

Ichigo brushed the creases out of his t-shirt. The punch had _almost_ hurt. "I should've called," he admitted. It had _definitely_ been deliberate on Karin's part.

She crossed her arms under her chest. "No, really?"

"You look good," he offered.

Tatsuki tilted her head fractionally and surveyed him out of the corner of her eyes. His hair was a bit shorter than it had been, particularly his sideburns and the sides in general, but it was still his quintessentially spiky cut. He had something of a tan himself and seemed stronger—still wiry, but sturdier. "You still look more like a _yankii_ than a Yankee," she observed. "Did you wash out?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Tch... I got posted to the base here."

She rotated to study him properly. "Yokota? Over in Fussa?"

"Yeah."

She blinked and narrowed her eyes. "You almost sound disappointed."

His only response was a twinge at the corners of his mouth. He turned and rubbed the back of his neck. He was still working out how he felt about it. "So, you busy?"

Tatsuki leaned against the door frame. "I was planning on trying to meet up with Orihime and some of her friends."

"She's going to the university too, huh?" He didn't know much of anything about her situation, but she and Tatsuki had always been inseparable.

"Yeah."

Ichigo thought over what she'd said. It wasn't like he really knew better, but... "I didn't think she had many friends besides you and the other girls," he mused.

"She still doesn't, really, but I don't think you'd remember who I was talking about." Tatsuki noted. With a sigh she pushed off the door frame and walked back inside, waving him in after her. "You can wait in here while I go get dressed. It's already getting miserable out there."

He turned on a heel and followed, shutting the door behind him and slipping his shoes off in the _genkan_ entryway.

* * *

It wasn't much later when they were situated across a table from one another on a café patio in Karakura's shopping district.

Tatsuki reclined in her chair, eating ice cream off a cone.

Ichigo finally paid attention to what she was having. "Isn't it kinda early in the day for that?"

"You're paying," she reminded him.

He drummed his fingers on the table and let out a huff. "So, have you seen Chad recently?"

She blinked and leaned forward in surprise. "You haven't told _him_ either?"

Ichigo crossed his arms and turned his head to one side in a clear admission of guilt.

"You're the worst," she admonished, taking a bite before settling back again. "I haven't seen him since the vacation started, but he wasn't gonna go anywhere over break and I was thinking of inviting him to come along with the rest of us later."

He looked back at her. "You guys hang out?"

She made an exasperated face. "We've all got the same classes and mostly the same schedule. Since we all kind of knew each other already, it just... happened." The University of Tokyo's system of keeping freshmen and sophomores on a general education focus had ensured they wound up together—they weren't going to split up into their desired fields of study until junior year.

Ichigo grunted an ambivalent acknowledgement. "So, who else were you going to hang out with? Chizuru and them?"

Tatsuki scowled faintly at the presumption there. "You're awfully interested all of a sudden."

"Somebody keeps implying I should try harder."

"I told you that you wouldn't remember him."

"Try me," he insisted, curious at the reveal of the person in question being a _he_.

"Ishida Uryū," she stated.

Ichigo slowly frowned as he tried to place the name to a face, and then to place the name at all. He tilted his head to one side.

"Tch! You really are hopeless! He was the top-ranked guy in our class and the class president!"

Ichigo looked down as if to search the table for answers before shrugging and clasping his hands behind his head. He leaned back. "You're right, I don't remember him."

Tatsuki just shook her head and rolled her eyes.

They sat in familiar silence for a time before Ichigo exhaled and sat up again. He was about to keep bantering when something in the background behind her drew his gaze— _someone_.

Across the street from them was a woman in conservative business dress—she was short, rather imperial in bearing, and his training set off quiet alarms in his head at the way her jacket hung—ones that warned 'weapon'—but none of that was what arrested his attention. It was that she was looking directly at him—scrutinizing him.

Her eyes were the most striking shade of ultramarine. He'd never seen someone with eyes that color, and he'd encountered his fair share of shades in Texas. They were so deep and haughty, even at a distance, and something told him there was no way those were contacts—

"Ichigo," Tatsuki repeated, "Earth to Ichigo."

He blinked and refocused on her before glancing back toward the mystery woman, but she'd already turned and begun to walk off. He tracked her for a second before hesitantly returning his attention to Tatsuki.

She raised an eyebrow. "What's with you all of a sudden?"

"... Nothing," he said with a scowl. "What were you saying?"

"I _said_ we should go see Chad and let him know you're here."

"... Yeah," Ichigo replied, looking into the distance again. The woman was nowhere to be seen. He dismissed the matter with a huff and sank back into his chair again.

* * *

 **[ A/N:** This chapter was last edited on **March 5, 2018**. **]**

 **[** Americans will have their names in Western format. Japanese will have their names in Eastern format. **]**

 **[** The Visored are canonically Americans in this. For the sake of the reader's clarity, their names have been left as normal, although the order for their names has been rendered in Western format to indicate this. Their actual names within this setting are as follows: **]**

 **[** • Hirako Shinji - _Shaun Hirning_ **] _  
_** **[** • Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō (Rose) - _Roger "Rose" Ottaviani_ **] _  
_** **[** • Kuna Mashiro - _Margaret "Maggie" Kuna_ **] _  
_** **[** • Aikawa Love - _Daryl "Love" Acker_ **] _  
_** **[** • Sarugaki Hiyori - _Holly Saragosa_ **] _  
_** **[** • Yadōmaru Lisa - _Lisa Yaeger_ **] _  
_** **[** • Ushōda Hachigen - _Hector Usherwood_ **] _  
_** **[** • Muguruma Kensei - _Kenneth Muguerza_ **]**

 **[** Transliterated foreign words are going to be italicized, as is common practice in English. **]**

 **[** Italics will also sometimes be used for emphasis of a single word, but are usually used for thoughts. **]**

 **[** Particular words considered in dialogue, quotes in dialogue, and dialogue that is being recalled will all be in single rather than the normal double quotes to indicate they're not being spoken aloud in the present moment. **]**


	2. Heat Lightning

**Wednesday, August 18, 2004**

Chad opened his apartment's front door and immediately froze in surprise.

Ichigo offered a conciliatory smile and extended a hand in greeting. "Oi, Chad, long time no see!"

Seconds passed. Chad glanced at Tatsuki.

Her chagrined expression made it clear that the reason she hadn't said anything was to pin it all on Ichigo, just as Karin had.

Chad refocused on Ichigo, clasped his hand, and stepped forward, pulling him into a bear hug.

Ichigo blinked and hesitated for a fraction of a second before returning it, patting the giant on the back.

Chad soon released him, looking him over again in appraisal. "You look well, Ichigo."

"Uh, so do you!" Ichigo ventured.

"Really, that's all you've got?" Tatsuki critiqued.

Ichigo looked her way without turning his head. "Hey, listen, we've got an understanding—"

"With that haircut, I can tell that he was successful in his ambitions," Chad rumbled.

A scowl crossed Ichigo's face and he looked from Chad to Tatsuki and back again. "Wh—What's wrong with my hair?"

Chad finally cracked a small smile.

Tatsuki rolled her eyes. "So, do you still want to surprise more people? I don't really wanna have to deal with hearing Keigo screeching today if I can help it."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at that. She had a point, and she'd already told him Mizuiro was out of town. "I guess not."

Chad turned and shut his door, locking it. "Are you still interested in meeting with Inoue and Ishida?"

"Might as well," Tatsuki sighed.

Ichigo rubbed the back of his head. "I have to get a cell phone and pick up some stuff for Yuzu, think we can do that while we wait?"

"You have money?" Tatsuki inquired with disbelief.

He smirked and tapped between her clavicles with a superior look. "That's right, _I_ have a _job_."

She scowled at him.

"Sure, we can help you carry things," Chad said, cutting to the heart of the matter.

"That's not what I meant!" Ichigo protested.

Tatsuki gave a teasing grin. "Yeah, sure. Come on then. If we help, Yuzu will probably treat us to lunch."

* * *

Rukia was lost in thought, contemplating Karakura's shopping district from a rooftop edge. It was rapidly becoming apparent that whatever was going on with this 'Hollow' drug was happening at a remove from the town's day to day life.

That wasn't surprising—in Japan, at least, it wasn't like drug dealers tended to hang out in the open. But Karakura also seemed to lack for any real underworld elements at all. It was too small and suburban to have anything in the way of a scene or a seedier side. She'd determined that much to her satisfaction already.

The best places to hide were in plain sight, or where nobody would ever expect. Karakura definitely qualified for the latter—there was almost nothing that suggested the place had a dark side. If she didn't know better, she'd think she'd been sent on a wild goose chase.

Rukia sighed before something down below caught her attention. She blinked as she realized it was that same orange-haired guy she'd seen earlier, then focused upon him. He was with the same girl as before, but this time they were accompanied by a rough-looking giant. She frowned as she considered the trio.

* * *

"Ah, Kurosaki- _kun_! It's nice to see you again!" Orihime greeted with a smile.

"Yeah, you're looking well, Inoue," he replied, before looking to Uryū. He extended a hand. "Ishida Uryū, right? I'm Kurosaki Ichigo."

Uryū adjusted his glasses and looked at Ichigo's hand before finally taking it and shaking it. "Yes, we've met."

Ichigo gave a short but polite laugh. "Yeah, so I hear—sorry, I'm terrible with names and faces."

"It helps if you punch him in the face after you tell him your name," Tatsuki noted, giving a sage nod.

Uryū raised an eyebrow at that as he withdrew his hand.

Orihime giggled.

Chad gave a tiny smile.

Ichigo frowned and looked askance at Tatsuki. "That's not funny."

She smiled, and playfully jabbed him with an elbow. "It worked, didn't it?"

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Uryū ventured.

"So we're going somewhere to eat, right? I'm starving!" Orihime said. She stopped and blinked, raising a finger as if something had just occurred to her. "Oh! Kurosaki- _kun_ , weren't you out of town?"

"Uh—" he began.

"Let's save story-time for the dinner table," Tatsuki declared. "I think there's a new _gyūdon_ restaurant that opened up around here..."

"Oi, you know I'm not paying for you again, right?" Ichigo complained.

"Shut up, I know!" Tatsuki huffed, before turning and beginning to lead the group away from their meeting place.

They fell in behind her.

It was about halfway there that Ichigo spotted a strange figure on the other side of the road and froze in his tracks. Even though she was wearing sunglasses, he could immediately tell it was _her_ —the exotic-eyed woman from earlier.

The motion seemed to draw her notice because she stopped as well.

They stared each other down for some unknown length of time, though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.

Rukia pulled her sunglasses down, scowling at him.

Ichigo stared back until Chad's call of his name stole his attention. He looked at his retreating band of friends and acquaintances and back to her. He caught up with them while stealing glances at her.

She eyed him and his once-again larger group with suspicion, tracking them for a full ninety degree arc from where she'd first noticed him before continuing on her way.

* * *

 **Thursday, August 19, 2004**

Ichigo finished washing out his bowl and stood up straight, stretching and yawning. Getting used to the diet of home again was a bit trying—for some reason it made him feel tired.

"Ah, _onii-chan_!" Yuzu piped up, "Could you stop by the Urahara Shop and pick up some things for me? There's a list on the counter."

Ichigo duly retrieved and reviewed the list. It detailed various appetizers and certain bulk ingredients. "Isn't that the one run by that weird guy? Uh, Sandal-Hat?" She'd asked him to go there in her place once or twice before on errands, but it'd been a very long time. What was up with him anyway?

"Be nice!" she admonished, "I always get a discount there!"

He glanced at her. "Eh, really?"

Yuzu continued stirring a pot. From the smell he had the sense it was a broth. "Mhm! The boy who works there only ever charges me ¥500 for everything."

Ichigo squinted at that. "Really." It wasn't a question.

"Just tell him I sent you and that I'm sorry I couldn't come by myself!" she beamed.

He frowned and pocketed the list, heading for the door. "Yeah. Sure." It wasn't like he was busy, and he had a sudden interest in ascertaining the nature of such a discount. He slipped his shoes on and headed out, deciding to detour through the shopping district to grab coffee.

* * *

Rukia was enjoying a nice cup of royal milk tea at a café when she happened to catch sight of a familiar head of orange hair going by. She blinked and scowled, staring before quaffing the drink and bolting upright.

She'd run into this guy far too often the prior day for it to be mere coincidence. His hair had made every encounter obvious and was far too unusual for such a boring place to be insignificant. Something was up with him, and since she was having a hell of a time finding any leads worth a damn, she was going to find out what it was.

Having already paid, she got out the door just after he'd gone by. "Hey, you! Orange peel!"

Ichigo stopped in place and narrowed his eyes. "Huh?" He turned with a frown, only to widen them again in surprise at the sight of _her_. She looked even more ethereal and superior up close. He was taken aback by it, her insult forgotten.

Rukia pointed at him impatiently. "Just who the heck are you anyway?"

He blinked again and tilted his head to one side as he leaned forward some, the spell broken as quickly as it'd been cast. "What was that?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I _said_ , 'Who the heck are you anyway?'"

Seconds passed before Ichigo closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head. "What kind of question is that?" He opened them again and stared her down with incredulity. "And who swears like that!?"

It was Rukia's turn to blink at his attitude. _This guy is definitely some kind of delinquent._ "How rude! I'm the one asking the questions here!"

Ichigo frowned before turning and waving a hand dismissively, continuing on his way. "Yeah, uh, _okay_. Whatever, lady. Have a nice day."

Rukia made a sour face, briskly jogging around in front of him and taking a defiant stance, pulling out her ID and opening it as she brought it up into his face.

He stopped to avoid smashing into her hand more than anything, starting to complain "Seriously—" until his eyes began to scan the document.

Her expression became smug as she saw the change that came over his features. "I'd like to ask you some questions," she stated, proper and officious.

Ichigo turned his focus to her and met her gaze. "What can I do for you, _officer_?"

Rukia pulled her head back a degree at his sudden intensity, then leaned in. "So, are you some kind of ruffian or something?"

He squinted again. _This lady is_ really weird _for a cop._ "Are you just... _seriously_ asking that..." he trailed off to look at the ID again, "Kuchiki- _san_?"

She scowled at his continued lack of respect and snapped the ID closed in front of his face, pocketing it and pointing at his nose. "With hair like that, what else could you be? Come on! Don't be a pain or life will get difficult for you!"

Ichigo sighed and studied some point above her head. "This is my natural hair color."

"As if," she huffed, lowering her hand and tapping her pointer and middle fingers against her thumb. "ID."

With the subtlest roll of his eyes, Ichigo withdrew his wallet. Being careful to conceal its contents, he withdrew his national health insurance card. He really didn't want to reveal he was technically there in his capacity as an American citizen instead of a Japanese one if he could help it. He didn't have to show it to her, but if it'd get her to leave him alone... He proffered it to her.

Rukia took it and studied it for a time. "Okay, Kurosaki, so I'm supposed to believe you just naturally have orange hair?"

"Is it a crime now? Am I supposed to prove it to you or something?"

She stared him down.

"And how exactly would you like me to do that?" he demanded, his sarcasm a low growl. The entire notion was a joke.

Rukia blinked and frowned as her mind turned to one possible interpretation. "Ugh. Listen—"

"Look, Kuchiki, if this is just about my hair being suspicious... I gotta go grocery shopping, so if we're done here?" His tone signaled his clear disinterest in continuing the conversation and he deliberately dropped the honorific in pursuit of the same. At the same time, he took his ID back from her, pocketing it as he maneuvered around her.

She blinked, stunned for a moment at his nerve. Finally, she turned and began to stalk after him. "Hey! Where do you think you're going? I'm not done talking to you!"

"I don't have to answer your questions," he stated.

"You're being really suspicious, Kurosaki!"

"Yeah, well, what, are you going to follow me around in the hope that I commit a crime? Because that's the only way you can bring me in for questioning."

Rukia clenched her hands into fists at this infuriating man and continued on after him. Who the hell was so openly defiant of authority and had the wherewithal to know even that much of the law?

"That wasn't an invitation!"

"Shut up, I just happen to be going this way! You can't prove otherwise!"

Ichigo let out a hot but incoherent grumble and continued on to get his coffee.

Rukia followed in suspicious silence.

* * *

Ichigo paused to drop the empty cup into a wastebasket and rubbed the back of his head as he continued on.

Rukia's footsteps echoed his from the same distance she'd maintained the entire time. They hadn't exchanged a word since they'd started off together and her consistency was unnerving.

He twitched an eyebrow. "Are you _seriously_ going to follow me all day!?" He refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing him angry and just raised his voice to be heard without turning his head.

"Walking across the whole town to buy groceries is highly suspicious," she deadpanned.

"Shut up! My sister said she gets a discount at this place and she couldn't go herself today," Ichigo muttered.

There was a pause before Rukia rejoined, "You have a sister?"

"Two."

There was a long quiet as she considered his back. She looked down for a moment in thought. "Are—"

"They're four years younger than me, fraternal twins," he interjected.

Rukia blinked at the subtle change in his attitude before looking around in sudden recognition. She paused as they rounded a corner and she caught sight of the Urahara Shop. _This... this is...!_ Her eyes refocused on Ichigo's retreating figure. _One of his sisters gets a discount at_ this _place? A likely story!_

"What, you hear about my family and you get bored?" Ichigo snarked, before blinking as she marched after him, closing the growing distance in quick strides.

She walked right past him, turning and planting her feet shoulder width apart in his way.

He had to halt to keep from running into her. They stood in the middle of the dirt lot before the shop.

"How do you know this place?" she demanded, her eyes meeting his.

"I just told you! My sister said she gets a discount here! I've only been here once or twice before." What the hell was the big deal? It was just a rundown local shop.

Rukia's gaze was chill. "I'm supposed to believe that?"

Ichigo frowned before rummaging in one of his pockets, producing Yuzu's list and dangling in front of her face so she could see the girly handwriting. "I don't really care what you believe."

Rukia's attention shifted to the list with growing confusion.

"Um, excuse me," a girl's voice interrupted.

Ichigo looked up.

Rukia turned her head, her eyes widening a bit.

Ururu blinked as she recognized Rukia. "Oh—"

"What do _you_ want?" Jinta intruded, stepping out from the store and crossing his arms.

The specificity of who was meant by 'you' wasn't immediately clear. Ichigo pointed with the hand he was holding the list in. "Oi, are you the guy who keeps giving my sister a discount on stuff here?" He walked around Rukia.

Jinta blinked, taken aback. "Huh?"

"Kurosaki Yuzu. Sandy-blonde, about as tall as her," Ichigo continued, waving back at Rukia absentmindedly as he advanced.

He screwed his face up and put on a show of looking tough. _What's with this guy?_ "What's it to you!?"

Ichigo stopped in front of him, sizing him up with a scowl. Finally he held out the list. "I'm her brother. She sent me to get this."

Rukia frowned in puzzlement at the exchange, appraising Ururu and Jinta's reactions. They really didn't seem to know him.

Jinta looked from Ichigo's stony expression to the list and back again several times before the set of his features mellowed. He took it, heading inside to get the things in question.

Ichigo watched without moving a centimeter, considering the store interior from outside until a new figure emerged from the gloom.

Rukia's eyes widened again as Kisuke walked into view.

He stopped and stretching with a yawn in the entryway to the store. "My my, this _is_ a surprise. It's been quite a long time since you've been here, Kurosaki- _san_! I'd heard you'd gone away? Look at how big you've gotten!"

Ichigo finally faltered a bit at the man's demeanor. "Uh... Yeah. Hi, Sandal-Hat. Yuzu couldn't make it here herself."

"Oh? She's not ill, I hope?" Kisuke replied with every expression and appearance of concern.

"No, she's just busy with cooking. I was dressed."

Kisuke nodded in consideration and produced a fan to cover his mouth as his attention slid over to Rukia with more than a little meaning.

She stared back.

"Who's your guest?" he queried.

"Huh?" Ichigo scowled before looking over a shoulder in annoyance at Rukia as he put it together. "Oh, her? I don't even know, she followed me here."

"Collecting strays is an unusual trait," Kisuke mused aloud around a cryptic smile.

Ichigo shot him a small glare at that but Jinta returned with his bags before he could say anything. He produced his wallet and fished out five ¥100 coins, pocketed it, took one of the bags, exchanged the money, and then took on the rest. "Yeah. Well, nice seeing you," he said, turning and departing with them.

Kisuke watched him go before his attention settled on Rukia again.

She continued to study him until Ichigo drew near, focusing on him and hesitantly turning to follow after him, sparing a final glance back at the shop.

"Are you for real?" Ichigo muttered.

"S—Shut up!" Rukia replied.

"Listen, if you're going to follow me, could you at least carry one of these?"

"I'm not your hired help!"

He rolled his eyes—why was he even bothering?

As they left, Jinta quietly studied the shopping list Yuzu had authored. Her handwriting was pretty. He was shaken from his thoughts by Kisuke's hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

"You give her a discount, huh?"

Jinta blinked and glanced toward him.

Kisuke just smiled before patting his shoulder and heading back inside. It wasn't like the Kurosaki family were the typical customers anyway.

* * *

Ichigo halted in front of his family's clinic. "Okay, Short Round, adventure's over."

Rukia frowned at what was clearly meant as an insult. "What?"

He continued on to the gate that led to the household proper. "I live here, and you don't get to follow me inside. It was fun—really—but I hope you'll spend the rest of the day doing something more productive with our taxes."

She followed him up to the gate. "Hey, I'm not—"

Ichigo used a foot to shut it between them and lifted his eyebrows at her, before turning away and heading down the walkway.

Rukia watched him go with growing irritation. "Don't think I'm done with you, Kurosaki!"

He ignored her and made his way to the door, setting some of the bags down to get it open and heading inside. "I'm home!" he sighed. _What a weird day already... What the hell is her problem anyway?_

Rukia paced to the front of the clinic and clenched her fists in vexation. She had half a mind to just head inside. Something was _definitely_ up with this guy, or maybe his family. She stopped and pondered the building. It did look to be a legitimate clinic.

She could conceivably cover for her snooping by asking as to whether they'd had to deal with any drug overdoses or things of that nature, but they might also wise up to her ID being fake—it wasn't meant to pass anything more than cursory inspection by civilians. Going in was a risk, and as weird and suspicious as Ichigo was, he didn't merit it. Something about him didn't fit—he was too... clean-cut? She couldn't quite put her finger on it. And it wasn't like she'd get answers out of Kisuke.

She glowered at the sign before turning and stalking back toward the shopping district. "Next time, Kurosaki!"

* * *

Ichigo was halfway through polishing his boots and dress shoes when there was a knock on his bedroom door. "Yeah?"

"Are you busy?" Karin asked from the other side.

"Not so busy as to not talk."

She pushed on the door and peeked inside before opening it fully and walking in, surveying the scene. His bed had been made and had all sorts of things laid out atop it—there seemed to be multiple uniforms in blue and camouflage, along with various accessories and other gear. She took it all without really parsing it before turning her attention to him.

Ichigo was sitting on the floor, leaning over a piece of newspaper and using a wet cotton ball to buff wax into the tip of a boot. He glanced up at her and gave a quick smile. "Hey. What's up?"

Karin let her eyes find his before looking away. "You're going in tomorrow then?"

"Mhm," he hummed.

She just watched him work.

"It's not a dangerous job. Well. Not here, anyway."

Karin looked at him at the assertion.

Ichigo met her gaze and gave another, warmer little smile.

She blinked and crossed her arms, puffing out her cheeks and looking aside. "Who said anything about that? I was just wondering how you were supposed to get there. Isn't it in Fussa?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. I was thinking that I'd take the old bike to Minami-Tama and ride the train from there. It's a big base, but I could use the shuttles once I got there if I needed to move around off-duty."

Karin was quiet as she acted like she was considering the matter.

It was awhile before Ichigo spoke again. "They're going to set me up with a dorm room that I'll be expected to live out of, but it should be pretty easy to come back here most nights instead." As long as he kept the dorm clean and it didn't interfere with work, he was pretty sure nobody would really care, especially given he'd be staying with immediate family. He intended to ask about it the next day.

She blinked, studying him again. "Are you sure?"

He quirked his lips to one side. "Well, I'll try anyway. If it doesn't work out, then I'll be here on the weekends unless something comes up."

Karin looked down but nodded a little. It wasn't hard to figure out why he was telling her—if he wasn't in, then she was expected to protect Yuzu. There'd just always been an unspoken understanding between them about that.

"It's not worth worrying about, we'll know tomorrow and go from there," Ichigo stated.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

He looked up to find her studying him. He pondered the question for a second. "If you could go check on the bike, that'd be great."

Karin gave a serious nod and got up, padding out of the room and heading downstairs.

Ichigo resumed polishing his boots.

* * *

Rukia brought her bowl of _ramen_ closer to her mouth, hurriedly working her chopsticks and slurping. Although she was famished, she pulled it away in deference to civility as she chewed, letting her mind work at the same time.

She hadn't made any progress at all other than identifying that that Kurosaki guy was just as weird as his hair suggested—but that hardly helped with her mission. If she was honest with herself, he probably didn't have anything to do with what she was there to deal with. He was just his own irritating mystery.

Rukia eventually remembered to swallow and sipped the broth, glaring into the depths of the bowl. _Tomorrow, I'm going to have to try something different._ She set it down and sighed, wiping her mouth.

When all else failed, one started at the bottom and worked their way up. That particular orange-haired brat might— _might_ —not know anything, but there'd be others who would. She just had to find wherever it was they congregated and apply some physical persuasion. Scum always tended to grow in the same places.

She slid her chair back and stood, heading off into the night to return to her hotel.

* * *

 **Friday, August 20, 2004**

Ichigo sat up as his alarm went off, slapping the snooze button with polished efficiency before glancing at his window. The sun was already up despite how early it was.

With a grimace, he pulled the curtains aside, squinting into the cloudy morning. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned. There was nothing to be gained by sleeping in—he'd never made this trip before so if he was going to get there on time it was up to him to start early.

After a few seconds, Ichigo got out of bed and gathered up the clothes he'd set out for the day.

* * *

Yuzu was about three-quarters done with fixing breakfast when she heard him coming down the stairs. "Ah, _onii-chan_ , right on time!" she chirped, hazarding a look. She fell silent and stared.

Ichigo wore a USAF short-sleeved dress uniform: black socks; dark blue dress slacks, belt, and tie; and a light, sky blue dress shirt adorned with a name tag, ribbons, other devices, and rank insignia on the shoulders. A dark blue beret was tucked under his right shoulder strap, bearing a flash of an eagle in white, blue and yellow. He had on a black backpack, and was carrying his dress shoes in his right hand and a black gym bag in his left. His pace slowed as he noticed her expression, though he didn't stop until he'd come to rest in the communal room.

"Hey, Yuzu, are you—" Karin began, entering from the living room, only to likewise stop and stare.

Ichigo looked between them for a few seconds before setting his bags down by the _genkan_ and his shoes within it. He rubbed the back of his head as he stood up. "I look that weird, huh?"

"No!" they both replied.

"It's just—" Yuzu began.

Ichigo pointed at the pan in front of her. "Uh."

Yuzu blinked and let out an "Ah!" before turning, quickly starting to stir again. She scrunched her face up in annoyance—she _never_ lost track of what she was doing in the kitchen. On the other hand, he'd never looked—

"It's just... who are you and what'd you do with Ichi- _nii_? He never looks dashing," Karin judged, crossing her arms as she completed the thought.

Ichigo snorted and closed his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen table, rubbing at his hair again. "'Dashing', huh?"

"Well, not when you act like that," Karin rebuked, joining him at her traditional spot.

The door to the clinic abruptly opened as Isshin tromped in with his lab coat on. "Oh! Smells like breakfast is—" He stopped once he opened his eyes and spotted Ichigo. His look became considerate and he took his seat without another word, hunching forward and peering at his son.

Ichigo felt one of his eyebrows twitch involuntarily as his dad made a show of studying him. "You got something to say, old man?"

Isshin leaned toward Karin without looking away, covering his mouth and whispering to her. "Oi, who's this weird foreigner and what's he doing here in the house at this hour?"

Karin sighed and shoved his chair sideways, spilling him onto the floor. "Grow up."

"No fighting in the dining room!" Yuzu proclaimed over her shoulder.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair as Isshin scrabbled to his feet while whining at Karin. Some things never changed.

* * *

The journey to Yokota AB turned out pretty much as Ichigo expected. He parked the bike at Minami-Tama station's bicycle lot and rode the rest of way by train. It took about forty minutes and he was only subject to the occasional curious glance despite being wildly out of place.

After a ten minute walk, he was at the the Fussa Gate on the west side of the base. The only surprise was finding it largely manned by Japanese civilian guards in blue uniforms.

They perked up a bit when they saw his beret and name tag and he had a brief but pleasant conversation, during which they pointed out the Security Forces police station. It was basically directly opposite the gate, separated by the curve of the entrance road.

Lisa arrived in the middle of the conversation, interjecting, "Wow, you really made it on time. Chipper and everything."

Ichigo blinked at the sound of her voice, immediately placing it and turning to consider her. His eyes widened a little.

She was wearing a uniform much like his, but wore the typical inverted-v tie tab instead of a proper tie, a dark blue skirt with a hem just above her knees, black hosiery, and conservative black pumps. Somehow the way she wore her beret seemed sharper than everybody else. The narrow, black, angled ovals of her glasses made her eyes look even more piercing and framed them perfectly below her bangs. She stood easily with a hand on her hip.

The civilian guards acknowledged her with nods, before discretely breaking off their conversation with Ichigo.

He stared for a second and blinked. She was pretty. Finally he smiled and extended a hand in greeting. "Tech. Sergeant Yadōmaru. Good to meet you!"

Lisa smirked and shook his hand. "Knock it off. You can just call me Lisa, _Airman First Class Kurosaki_."

Ichigo frowned a little. "Okay, then call me Ichigo."

"Fine." She released his hand and started to head for an adjoining parking lot. "Come on then, Ichigo, we've got a lot of places to go. We'll take my car."

He only watched her for a second, noting her hair bun, before following, slightly behind and to her left.

* * *

Checking into a new base after a permanent change of station was a lot like processing out of one: two long checklists involving a lot of running around and paperwork to satisfy the base and the gaining squadron.

They had to stop by the Military Personnel Section first, then the Airman & Family Readiness Center for Ichigo's Right Start Newcomer Orientation briefings, which Lisa excused herself from to return to work for a few hours, and finally the Housing Management Office to confirm Ichigo's dorm allocation. By then it was lunch time, and Lisa diverted them into the local Chili's.

They sat opposite one another in a booth, munching on mozzarella sticks.

"I figure after this we can stop by the BX to get you some essentials and take your stuff to your dorm, then we'll get you over to the station to finish off things," she eventually offered.

"Um." Ichigo replied.

Lisa looked up at him. "Hmm."

He rubbed at the back of his head with his free hand. "I uh, know that I'm Priority 2, so I'm supposed to stay in my dorm, but..."

She narrowed her eyes before closing them for a moment in understanding, gesturing with her cheese stick. "Ah, I see. You're wondering if it'd be okay to stay with your family instead. Am I right?"

Ichigo looked aside but nodded.

She sighed. "You're new, and you're probably already figuring it out, but I guess nobody's told you directly. Things are different here in the operational force. People always getting in your business like in Basic and Tech School, that's over. You're an adult. As long as you don't violate policy—flagrantly, anyway—don't compromise your readiness or mission, and don't reflect poorly upon the Air Force, nobody is likely to care."

He met her gaze again to find her looking at him seriously.

"Do your job and don't step out of line and you'll be fine. We're a tight knit unit and this is a relaxed posting. Your dormitory is mostly our people anyway. You've got a cell phone, right? That's the number you've been using for your contact information?"

Ichigo nodded again.

Lisa let her expression ease. "Then we can get in touch with you, and it's not like you're wandering off to somewhere hours and hours away. Keep it that way and there won't be any problems."

He paused before saying "Thanks."

She rolled her eyes a little. "Have you always been such a goody two-shoes?"

Ichigo blinked and frowned. "Huh?"

She chuckled. "You heard me."

He glared before looking out the window as he chewed on his mozzarella stick.

Lisa smirked and considered one of the TVs, deciding to leave him alone for a bit.

* * *

Rukia cocked her head to one side as she considered the laughter and banter echoing out from under the bridge. It sure sounded like the type of people she was searching for. She pushed her sunglasses up with her left hand and tapped the aluminum baseball bat she was carrying against her right shoulder. _Might as well check._

She took a breath, hopped the fence, and skidded down the grassy embankment, sliding to a smooth halt where it flattened out before meeting the waterway.

The voices fell silent at her sudden appearance.

She stood up straight as she confirmed that there were six of them. It'd sounded like about as many. One was seated on a dilapidated couch—he had a ridiculous afro haircut and a chain going from an ear-piercing to a ring in his nostril—and she judged him to be the leader. The rest were the usual kind of small-time thugs. They were _exactly_ what she'd been trying to find.

"The hell?" the same guy finally asked.

Rukia tightened her grip on the bat handle. "'Hollow.' What do you know about it?"

"That's a _girl_?!" one of the thugs asked.

The rest laughed.

"Yokochini, should we make her feel welcome?" another leered.

"Don't call me that, you idiot!" Yokochini replied. He leaned forward to consider the new arrival. "Looks like you're lost, _miss_."

Rukia strode forward toward them, stopping two meters away from the nearest before pointing the bat at Yokochini. "One more time. 'Hollow.' Last chance."

Yokochini's eyes widened as he considered her dress and attitude. After a moment he leaned back in his chair. "Show this bitch what we do with nosy brats," he commanded.

Rukia gave a wicked grin with only one side of her mouth. She needed to work off some stress anyway.

* * *

"Please send six ambulances to check under the Onosegawa bridge at Koshitoriya," Rukia stated. With that she dropped the cell phone she was holding, crushing it beneath the barrel of the bat before she hefted the same back onto her shoulder and sauntered downstream along the embankment.

Behind her, the men groaned and whimpered on the ground.

Yokochini was the least injured and the first to regain his sense of the world. _How did this bullshit happen a second time? Who is that bitch?_ He withdrew his cell phone, which was mercifully unbroken, and scrolled through his contacts between shakes. It took several tries to find the right one. Finally, he called. When it connected, he started with "W—We have... a problem..."

* * *

 **[ A/N:** This chapter was last edited on **March 5, 2018**. **]**


	3. Blood Moon

**Friday, August 20, 2004**

After lunch, Ichigo and Lisa did exactly as she'd suggested, heading to the Base Exchange and Commissary for essentials, then to his dormitory to drop them and his bags off to get him squared away. It was important that it at least looked like he lived there, given periodic inspections, and he could always wind up actually using the space.

He decided he'd bring over a few more sets of clothes in on Monday to fill out his wardrobe some more. On her suggestion, he changed from service dress into battle dress uniform while she waited outside—it'd make it easier for him to get kitted out at the station.

Afterwards, she drove him over to the station proper to show him around and finish off the checklists for his gaining unit.

It was well into the afternoon when Lisa said, "By the way, the Major would like to see you."

"Eh?" The only Major that Ichigo knew of in their unit was the commander of the 374th Security Forces Squadron, Shinji Hirako.

"He likes to meet new personnel himself. Come on, I'll show you to his office."

He blinked and quietly gulped before following after her. He'd never had that much cause to interact with officers before other than incidental encounters.

It didn't take them long to arrive, and once they did, Lisa gestured at the door before leaning against a wall as if she owned it.

With a bit of hesitation, Ichigo moved up to the door. He took in a breath, stood at attention, and knocked once on the door frame.

"Enter."

Ichigo turned the handle and marched inside, doing the usual. He made a crisp stop three paces from the man's desk and snapped a smart salute. "Sir, Airman First Class Kurosaki reports as ordered."

Shinji narrowed his eyes slightly before sitting up fully and returning the salute. "Yeah, at ease."

Ichigo shifted to a parade rest.

Shinji considered him for a few seconds. "So you're just out of Tech School, hmm? First station?"

"Yes, sir."

The officer's lips tugged upwards at that. "We're a pretty close group here, so don't feel a need to be too formal. Especially around Hiyori." He paused, then corrected himself with, "I mean, 'Master Sergeant Sarugaki'."

Ichigo met his gaze. "Sir."

Shinji smirked and leaned back in his chair with a "Tch," before retrieving a folder from his desk. He looked through it briefly. "I've already reviewed your record. You were pretty impressive at Lackland. I'm sure you'll do fine here. The 374th Airlift Wing's motto might be ' _Celeriter Pugnare_ '—that is, 'Swiftly to Fight'—but this is a pretty laid-back post. We mostly just keep the peace and watch the base. I'm sure that Lisa's told you already, but here we don't do Panama schedules or whatever else you might've heard of. It's almost all eight-hour shifts and five day weeks." He paused to hear any commentary.

Ichigo just nodded in understanding.

"I take it she's gotten you all set up?"

"Yes, sir, she's been extremely helpful!"

"Good. Think you'll be ready to go on Monday?"

"Yes, sir!"

Shinji tapped at the folder three times. "I understand you have family nearby, so after you're done here for the evening, enjoy your weekend."

Ichigo nodded again. "Thank you, sir!"

"Yeah. I'm sure Lisa will see to getting you sorted. Dismissed."

After snapping back to attention, Ichigo snapped a salute again and marched out of the office after it was returned.

Shinji waited until he was gone and opened the folder again, considering the address of the Kurosaki residence and picking up his phone to make a call.

Ichigo let out a breath once he'd shut the door behind him.

"See? Not so bad," Lisa observed.

He shot her a small glare. "So what's next?"

She'd already pushed off the wall and started heading down the hall. "Well, we've gotta finish up your paperwork, then I guess we could get started on getting you your gear. We—"

"What in the _hell_ is this nonsense?" a new voice interrupted.

The pair stopped at the outburst.

Ichigo turning to identify the source, only to be perplexed by what appeared to be a surly blonde girl with the stripes of a Master Sergeant on her uniform. _What...!?_ As he studied her face it became clear she was older than that first shocking impression suggested, but... he noticed from her name tag that she was the Hiyori that Shinji had mentioned.

Lisa just sighed and pressed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose.

Hiyori stabbed a finger toward Ichigo's face. "Airman First Class..." she paused for a moment to glance at his name tag, " _Kurosaki_ , are you new here?"

"Of course he's new, you've never seen him before," Lisa stated.

"Shut up, baldy, it was rhetorical!" Hiyori snapped, before marching up to Ichigo so her finger was a millimeter away from his nose. "AFI 36-2903, _Dress and Personal Appearance of Air Force Personnel_ , Section 3.1.1, states hair will be a natural human color. What part of DayGlo orange do you interpret to be natural!?"

"This... is my natural hair color?" Ichigo managed. He frowned as he abruptly remembered Rukia's fixation on his hair the day prior.

"What!?" Hiyori roared, narrowing her eyes.

"It's a natural red," Lisa duly affirmed.

Hiyori leaned to one side so she could see Lisa from around Ichigo. "How the hell would you know anyway?"

Lisa raised her eyebrows and adjusted her glasses so the gleam hid her eyes.

"Unbelievable," Hiyori spat.

"I don't know what you're implying, I just know dye when I see it," Lisa countered.

Hiyori promptly ignored her to consider Ichigo again, glowering at him.

"I'm telling you, it's my natural hair color!" he insisted.

"Yeah, and I'm the Secretary of Defense!"

"What, do you want to see my armpit hair or something?!" Ichigo growled, reaching up toward his collar. He knew bullying when he saw it.

Hiyori blinked and stood up straight, crossing her arms as she stared him down.

Before the scene could degenerate any further, Lisa snatched Ichigo's other wrist and began to pull him down the hall. "Ignore her. We've got stuff to do."

"Oi!" he protested.

Lisa could not be dissuaded.

"Don't think I'm done with you!" Hiyori declared at their retreat. She waited until they rounded a corner before making her way to Shinji's door and knocking.

"What?!" he demanded.

She entered the same way as Ichigo had, only to drop the act once she'd shut the door. She and Shinji had known each other far too long to bother with formalities. "You shut up too, Baldy! Don't act like you're working!"

"I'm very busy," he insisted, gesturing at the folders covering his desk.

She hmphed and crossed her arms, considering the ceiling before muttering, "I don't like him."

Shinji grinned. "You don't like anybody."

Hiyori just glared at him.

* * *

"I don't know..." Ichigo replied ambivalently.

"Come on! You're the new guy, it's like a celebration of you! It'll be fun! Live a little," Lisa said.

"Are you saying that you all _wouldn't_ be eating and heading to that Chili's to drink without me?" Ichigo asked, a dubious look on his face.

She crossed her hands in front of her edge-on in an X-shape, then swept them to either side. "Nobody said that."

Ichigo frowned a little. "You know I'm below the drinking age."

Lisa sighed. "Yes, a modern tragedy: _Ichigo Rex_. If you come along I'll buy your dinner at the Enlisted Club."

He looked to one side. "And you're not going to pressure me into trying to drink?"

She held up a hand as if taking an oath. "Promise."

* * *

"Come on, rookie, just a sip! Nobody will notice," Mashiro said, dangling her margarita in front of him. Her cheeks and nose were flushed.

Ichigo turned to glare at Lisa.

She shrugged and took a long sip of her Mai Tai. " _I'm_ not pressuring you to do anything."

Mashiro peered at him critically. "Is he some kind of goody-goody?"

"Give the kid a break!" Kensei yelled from down the way.

Mashiro spun on her stool. "Don't tell me what to do, stupid Kensei!"

He rolled his eyes. "You're not even going to make it to the after-party at this rate."

Ichigo opened his mouth before deciding not to bother and closing it. Presumably the after-party was off-base, as half of them were already in civilian clothes. He returned his attention to Lisa. "I think I should go, it's getting kind of late."

She visibly sighed at him. "Afraid you'll miss the last train or something?"

He shrugged.

Lisa held up a hand in surrender. "Alright, I get it, it's not quite your speed. Maybe next time. I'm sure you're good to make it off-base. Stay safe, and see you Monday."

Ichigo nodded and got out his wallet, tossing some cash on the bar to pay for his soda before getting up and heading out.

* * *

Rukia had just popped the trunk of her car and dropped off a bag to swap it out for another when she became aware of footsteps somewhere behind her. Her blood ran cold at the softness of them and she could suddenly _taste_ the killing intent in the air.

Sode no Shirayuki was too difficult to get to in the heat of the moment. Without making any sudden moves, she reached for the handle of her parasol. Grasping it just so, she twisted, releasing the locking mechanism that held its _shikomizue_ -style blade in place. She waited, sweat trickling down her temples, and listened.

In a single smooth motion she turned, sliding the blade out of the _wagasa_ and slicing through the air at neck height.

Steel struck steel.

Rukia found herself eye-to-eye with her would-be assailant. He was a rather nondescript man, attired much like her. She sneered and tried for a punch while their swords were locked together.

He jumped back, and they both swung and clashed again, before he began to back away, sizing her up. With the element of surprise gone... well, he could just try again later. He turned and ran.

She swore, slamming the trunk shut before chasing after him on foot.

* * *

Ichigo was only a few blocks onward from Minami-Tama station when he had to clench the brakes to avoid running over a man who'd burst out onto the road. "Hey, watch where you're going!"

The man didn't stop and shot him only the briefest glare, disappearing down the alleyway on the other side of the street.

Ichigo blinked as he considered the darkened path. He'd been holding something that had gleamed—had that been... a sword?

"Get out of the way!" a familiar voice called out.

He whipped his head around just as Rukia ran out from the same direction as the guy had, brandishing a blade.

She rushed past without focusing on or seemingly even recognizing him, following after the mystery man.

Ichigo stared at her receding back, then grimaced and turned his handlebars, pedaling after her. _Just what the hell... is going on!?_

Her short stature meant it was no great problem to catch up, and he was soon rolling alongside her such that they wouldn't collide. "Oi, Kuchiki!"

Rukia blinked and jerked her head sideways. Her eyes widened in recognition. "You?! What are you doing here, you fool!?" She turned forward again. "I don't have time for you right now!"

Ichigo was taken aback by her dismissive hostility and screwed his face up. "Shut up! Like you're going to catch him on those puny legs of yours! Is he a bad guy?"

She spared him a second glance, her expression hardening. "Of course he's a bad guy, you idiot! He tried to kill me!"

His face went neutral as he focused in front of him. "I'll head him off," he said. He increased his pace in an instant, pedaling ahead of her.

"H—Hey, wait! This is none of your business, don't get involved!" Rukia shouted after him.

He had already pulled far ahead and swerved down a side exit, intent on making good on his word.

She gritted her teeth and pushed herself as fast as she could down the alley. _Fool...!_

* * *

Ichigo braked to a hard stop at one end to the alleyway and vaulted off his bike. _If I'm right, then..._ He'd just barely landed when the rush of approaching footfalls drew his attention. His eyes focused on a gleam of silver angling down at him with lethal intent.

Behind it was the mystery man.

Everything seemed to slow down.

The guy was yelling something.

It was lost on Ichigo, veiled behind the hammering pulse in his ears and the instant haze of adrenaline. His hands were already moving. He hefted up the bike, using it as a shield.

The sword clanged off the frame, ringing out like a murderous bell.

Ichigo stepped back from the force of the impact and dug his heels in, just in time to absorb a second blow with the bike before swinging it hard to one side, hitting the man with the rear wheel. He charged forward, using it to shove him back into the alley. Some deep part of his subconscious knew to go on the attack—it wouldn't take long for his opponent to try and stab through the gaps in the frame instead of trying to swing. He had to act _decisively_.

The man issued a grunt of pain and stumbled backwards from the impact.

Ichigo let out a battle cry and threw all his weight into the charge, pushing the guy past another side exit to smash him against a dumpster. He drew back, adjusting his grip on the frame. He was going to have to use the gear assembly—go for the face—

The Yakuza braced himself against the dumpster and kicked at the frame. "Bastard!"

Ichigo was caught off-balance and tumbled backwards with the bike, past the side exit again.

The man immediately followed after him, his sword raised above his head.

Before the blade could strike home a shadow slid between them. There was a spray of sparks and the splatter of hot blood on Ichigo's right cheek. "Wha..." he breathed.

The man withdrew with a howl of agony, clutching at his face with his free hand.

Rukia stood in front of Ichigo for a moment further. Her sword clattered to the ground, and she followed after it, slumping to her knees and clutching at her right arm as it dangled uselessly, then toppled forward.

"Kuchiki!" Ichigo managed. He tossed the bike aside. It crunched on the asphalt.

She let out audible, ragged breaths. "You... idiot! I told you not to get involved! Or did you think that you could beat a Yakuza with a bicycle? Either way, you are an idiot...!"

He blinked and swallowed, staring hard at her injured form. "I'm sorry... I just..."

"Don't worry about it..." Rukia pressed her left hand to the wet asphalt and swallowed a whimper as she forced herself back onto her knees, perpendicular to the alley. She considered her enemy for seconds that seemed to stretch out toward eternity, each labored breath a minor eon.

She was already suffering from shock. "Is what I would like to say... Unfortunately, I am no longer able to fight..."

Rukia reached into her suit jacket, fumbling for a moment before withdrawing her sidearm. She turned her head to her foe and extended her arm sideways.

Ichigo's attention shifted to the gleaming gun. It was a nickel-plated M1911 with stark but nuanced white grips—he was momentarily fixated on the absurd triviality of what the material was until her voice shook him from the thoughts.

"Now we'll just have to settle this... another way..."

His clenched his jaw and fists alike in an ugly expression. _It's my fault...!_

Rukia steadied her breathing and slid her finger into the trigger guard. She wasn't used to shooting left-handed. She adjusted her aim, only to blink as a hand fell onto the slide of the gun and forced it downward.

Ichigo cut her off before she could object, "You're... not really with the Narcotics Control Department, are you?" He knew nobody in the Japanese government carried that kind of gun, let alone a sword.

It was less a question than an accusation, and fell upon her with a dark certainty. "No," she admitted, trying to raise the gun again.

He preventing her from doing so. "So, if you pull that trigger, what happens?" His voice had taken on a distant quality. Everything so far in terms of noise could easily be written off—gunfire couldn't.

Rukia peered up at him. Her vision wavered as she did so. _Shit... you fool..._ She found him looking toward the other man with hardened eyes, and stared.

For the first time that night she properly took in the sight of him instead of just focusing on identifying features like his flame of orange hair. He was standing there in camouflage—a _uniform_. All at once she suddenly _saw_ it: the glossy black cap-toed military boots, the chevron-striped rank insignia, the unit patch, the name tag reading 'Kurosaki.' He was a soldier? Just... like her?

Ichigo released her gun and moved around in front of her, balling his hands into fists so hard his knuckles cracked. He kept the other guy in his line of sight the whole time and knelt down next to her.

She looked to him.

His eyes met hers as he took up her sword. "So. Yakuza..."

"You already know my name. I wasn't lying. It's Kuchiki Rukia."

He looked deep in her. "I see... I'm Kurosaki Ichigo. Let's pray this isn't the last greeting for both of us."

"You _bitch_!" the man down the way roared, finally spinning to face them. One of his cheeks had been sliced open all the way to his back molars.

Ichigo flared his nostrils in disgust at the sight.

"He's coming, if you don't hurry—" Rukia began.

Ichigo rose and brought the sword to the ready, getting his other hand onto its hilt. He didn't really know how to swordfight, but the same basic rules applied to everything. "Let's do it."

There was a moment of silence as the men sized each other up.

"Huh!" the Yakuza spat. "Not such bad Japanese... for a foreign rat!"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "I'm getting really tired of hearing that."

Each lunged forward at the same time with a shout. There was nothing elegant or pleasant about what followed. Their swords clanged off one another, only to be brought back around in another clash. Both leaned in.

Ichigo blocked an attempt at a kick and shoved back, knocking the man off-balance and following with a kick of his own to the guy's knee.

It let out a disgusting pop matched by a pained grunt as it subtly bent the wrong way. The Yakuza soldier instinctively used his off-hand to try and catch himself.

Ichigo exploited his leverage to knock his foe's sword aside. Once his blade was flat against his enemy's, he swung as mightily as he could, metal gliding on metal to strike home in flesh.

There was a splatter of crimson and the Yakuza fell to the ground, barely still in one piece. He let out an unintelligible gurgle and wheezed his last.

Ichigo staggered back from the carnage, taking it in, taking in the red. His knees trembled and his hands started to shake. He dropped the sword to his right side and turned away, bracing his left hand on a thigh as he bent over, intent on stopping himself from retching.

Rukia tore her gaze away from him and focused on her arm. She hadn't bothered with it since their odds of survival hadn't seemed assured by any means, but he was alive and thus so was she. She set her gun down and clutched at her bicep, holding in a cry. She wasn't bleeding as badly as she could've been given the cut was clean—blood vessels could seal if hit just right—but she wasn't going to last forever. She needed him to help her tourniquet the wound, at the very least.

She deliberately picked her words and steadied herself, asking, "Are you injured?"

His only reply was ragged breathing.

 _Ichigo. His name is Ichigo. Use his name. He'll respond better if you use his name._ "Ichigo, stay with me— _I'm_ hurt and I need your help, okay? Are you injured?"

Ichigo swallowed several gulps of air, then forced himself upright, wiping at his mouth. "No—No, I'm good. I'm good."

Rukia let out a breath and nodded. He clearly hadn't ever killed, but he hadn't hesitated either—his style was brutal, but effective, although she'd never seen it before. She opened her mouth again but a different voice beat her to the punch.

"I've heard of painting the town red, but this is a bit excessive for a first date... even if it is a Friday night."

Both Ichigo and Rukia snapped their heads toward the sound of the voice, eyes wide.

Ichigo automatically brought the sword up again despite the familiarity of it.

Kisuke had his head tilted down such that his hat hid his eyes, yet revealed a dour smile. "Tessai, please take care of Kuchiki- _san_ , she seems to be quite injured."

Tessai stepped into the alleyway behind him. His glasses gleamed ominously in the wan lighting.

It took Ichigo a moment to place him, and to mentally confirm he'd seen him around the Urahara Shop.

Tessai silently surveyed the scene, then grunted in acknowledgement and started forward around one side of Kisuke.

Ichigo's gaze flickered to him, then settled on Kisuke as he moved between the pair and Rukia. The sword clicked as he brought it to a cutting stance with both hands.

She blinked at the juxtaposition of the three men and the threat of continued combat. Why was he... was he protecting her?

"What are you doing here, Sandal-Hat?" Ichigo demanded. There was a current of vicious danger beneath the words.

Kisuke sighed and tilted his head back to look Ichigo in the eyes. The boy's gaze was unfocused—no, focused on some point in the distance in a classic thousand-yard stare. His amenability to further violence was engraved in the set of all his features.

Ichigo remained steadfast and statuesque in the face of the other man's cold evaluation.

"Are you really going to deny her medical care until your suspicions are allayed? Because I think in that case, she's quite likely to expire long before you'll step aside," Kisuke said.

The corner of Ichigo's mouth twitched, but he lowered the sword and moved to one side, keeping his focus on Kisuke.

Tessai smoothly continued forward as if he'd never stopped, moving around to Rukia's left side and picking her up in a bridal carry with surprising delicacy.

Rukia flinched and held in a whine as she was gathered up, but didn't resist, allowing herself to be borne off without another word.

When she was out of sight, Ichigo finally averted his gaze from the shopkeeper's, considering one of the alleyway walls.

"I put a tracking bug on her clothing. It seemed expedient," Kisuke offered.

There was a long silence as Ichigo recalled the previous day. "She knew you. You knew her. You knew she was Yakuza...?" He slowly looked to the shopkeeper again with growing suspicion. "Who... are you really?"

Kisuke gave a thin smile, looking to the dead man on the asphalt. "Not very elegant work, but efficient. Your first?"

Ichigo's lip curled. "It was self-defense."

Producing a fan, Kisuke snapped it open and covered his mouth. "Oh, you don't have to persuade me. I'm sure that the authorities might be convinced of the same in due time. But what a thorny situation to explain. An American Airman kills a Yakuza foot soldier within three days of arriving in-country? With a _shikomizue_ , the scabbard of which is nowhere to be found?"

As he spoke, Ichigo's expression grew cold.

Kisuke's demeanor abruptly became conciliatory. "Of course, if that problem behind you was to disappear..."

There was a long silence.

"What do you want?" Ichigo asked grimly.

Kisuke's smile was evident despite the fan. "Oh, nothing much. I'd just like for you to take care of Kuchiki- _san_."

Ichigo blinked.

* * *

 **Saturday, August 21, 2004**

Sometime later Ichigo was leaning against the side of the Urahara Shop's store van. He had his shoulders hunched and his arms crossed. Cleaning the blood splatter off his fatigues with the solution and supplies he'd been provided had taken less time than might have been imagined. He'd been left with nothing to do.

Kisuke had been dealing with the body, and neither Rukia nor Tessai had made a peep inside the van for quite some time.

Ichigo clenched his fists under his arms. He'd only heard her make one hissing noise earlier, and then nothing. She had to be... really tough. He was shaken from his thoughts by the sound and sensation of the van door opening, and pushed off its side.

Tessai entered his line of sight from the rear of the vehicle.

"Hey! Is she okay? Is she going to be okay?" Ichigo asked.

Tessai's head inclined toward him, as though he'd only just become aware of his presence. "Oh, Kurosaki- _dono_. Please come here."

Ichigo blinked and narrowed his eyes, warily approaching the man.

Tessai stepped back and held out a hand toward the rear of the van.

Ichigo stopped in front of him, then turned to look into the interior.

There, on a narrow cot, was Rukia.

His eyes widened fractionally; he could just see the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath the blanket that covered her, as though she was asleep. He stared for some time, zeroing in on the glow of an electrocardiogram. He barely had a second to consider it when he was being 'helped' into the back of the van. "H—Hey! What's the big idea?!"

"The analgesic which Kuchiki- _dono_ has been administered will lower her core body temperature. Please make yourself useful by keeping her warm while I assist the manager in dealing with the other matter," Tessai said, all but throwing Ichigo inside, and shutting the doors behind him.

Ichigo caught himself on the wall and ceiling of the van's interior and glared at the doors. His attention turned to Rukia.

Her eyes were closed and she was breathing softly. She looked peaceful. It was completely different from how he'd ever seen her before. She almost looked...

He wound up staring again and shook his head to snap himself out of it, crouching down beside the cot she was on and evaluating how to move her. Finally, he reached forward, cradling the back of her head and delicately lifting her up into a sitting position. She was light, but his surprise wore off as he considered her size. He shifted so he sat on the cot, carefully drawing her onto his lap and cradling her against him while being mindful of her injury.

The right arm of Rukia's suit jacket and her dress shirt had been snipped off, and her arm had been expertly bandaged. Drawing her to him made it clear that both garments had also been cut down the side to make it possible to remove them without drawing them over the limb. Her clothes were ruined. She took in an audible breath and stirred, pressing a little closer to him and getting her face against his chest.

Ichigo blinked again and took on a light flush. He scowled and looked aside, drawing the blanket up around her shoulders and bundling her in it. He leaned against one of the walls of the van, just passively holding her.

She settled easily and was soon pacific against him.

Ichigo kept his eyes off her and very deliberately ignored the sweet freesia and ice scent that somehow cut through the omnipresent stench of disinfectant. He watched the electrocardiogram without really seeing it, somewhere else—somewhere in the dark spaces between the peaks and valleys of her glowing lifeline.

Rukia's petite heft kept him anchored through the crests and troughs.

* * *

It wasn't immediately clear how much later it was when the doors of the van were opened again.

Ichigo turned his head to coolly consider the disturbance.

Without comment, Tessai hefted a heavy black body bag into the back, pushing it along on the floor. He then took the bike that Kisuke was holding steady and rolled it inside as well.

Ichigo frowned grimly at the bag and lifted his feet as it slid past, getting his boots on his bike's frame to push it securely up against the opposite wall. He had to slouch a bit and the motion brought Rukia's chin over his shoulder.

She let out the quietest murmur but otherwise wasn't roused.

Ichigo glanced to her in surprise at the noise, then hardened his expression and turned back toward the doors.

Tessai had already gone. Kisuke was smiling at him—them? "Ah, we already know where you live! Don't worry, we'll drive slow!" He shut the doors before Ichigo could say anything, making his way around to the driver's side.

Ichigo sighed, his gaze drifting back to Rukia. He soon looked away, just focusing on bracing himself and her securely, watching as Tessai and Kisuke got in. His focus settled upon the front windscreen.

They took their time buckling up, but shortly the engine rumbled to life and they pulled away into the night.

* * *

The van came to a smooth halt in front of the Kurosaki clinic.

Ichigo's eyes refocused during the deceleration. He scanned the cabin of the vehicle as Tessai unbuckled his seat belt, noticing Kisuke made no similar move. He didn't move until the back door of the van was opened, turning his head and drawing his boots away from the bike as Tessai took hold of it.

Tessai slowly rolled the bike out of the back and set it on the ground, walking it toward the gate that led to the residential half of the building.

"Can you get out by yourself?" Kisuke asked.

Ichigo blinked. "Yeah." He glanced down at Rukia and planted his feet on the floor. He removed the monitor that was attached to one of her fingers and got an arm under her knees, scooting down the length of the cot. Finally, he lifted her in a bridal carry, shuffling to the back of the vehicle with her still wrapped in the blanket.

She shifted in his arms and let out a drowsy coo, but settled her head against his shoulder.

Ichigo spared her another look, carefully lowering one foot onto the asphalt, then stepping down with her. He stood there with her for a long moment, then scowled and walked around to the driver's side of the van.

Kisuke had already rolled the window down and reached a hand out as Ichigo arrived, setting a plastic bag containing various pill bottles on the blanket covering Rukia's belly. "Her medication. The instructions should be self-explanatory. Make sure she uses all of it."

Ichigo's frown deepened. "Should I even bother asking why you're doing all of this?"

Kisuke gave a cryptic smile and made a show of looking at the radio clock. "It's rather late. I hope your sisters didn't stay up waiting for you."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes but turned and bore Rukia toward the gate, finding it held open by Tessai.

The burly man closed it after he'd passed through and returned to the van, shutting its back doors and getting inside again.

Ichigo didn't bother looking back as he heard them drive off, noting where his bike had been left—he'd have to check it for damage, but it wasn't a priority and could wait until the morning. He was vaguely aware that they must've had her _shikomizue_ and handgun, but that didn't matter right then either.

He fished his keys out of one of his pockets, leaning against the door frame to keep Rukia steady. He then eased the door ajar, peeking inside to find it dark and quiet.

After listening for several seconds, he opened it and stepped inside, maneuvering to the edge of the _genkan_ and sitting down on the wooden floor. He slipped Rukia's dress shoes off and set them with the others for the moment, then undid his boots and pulled them off.

Ichigo waited and listened for another minute, before picking her up again and carrying her upstairs to his room. He shut the door behind him and brought Rukia to his bed, resting her on it and leaning over to turn on the lamp attached to the headboard.

She muttered something and turned away from the light.

He carefully withdrew the blanket from her for a moment to consider her state. The front of her suit was splattered with dried blood from her injury and grime from when she'd toppled onto the pavement. It wouldn't do to sleep in it. _But..._ Frowning, he went to get a spare t-shirt from one of his drawers, then drew close again, touching her forehead. "Hey. Kuchiki."

Rukia stirred faintly at the contact but turned her head a little more in resistance.

Ichigo pursed his lips and brushed at her forehead again. "Hey, Rukia..."

She took in a breath and opened her eyes the barest fraction, finding his.

He blinked and pulled his hand away, staring back. "Y—You're safe," he blurted, looking aside, "But I'm going to have to get you out of these clothes for you to sleep, okay?"

Rukia held his gaze, then closed her eyes and gave a dreamy sigh of "Fine."

Ichigo blinked again, helping her so she sat with her back to his chest.

She didn't resist, but wasn't in a position to help either.

Pointedly looking askew, he opened her suit jacket and unbuttoned her blouse by touch, clenching his jaw and ignoring the light blush that took hold of his cheeks as he did so. After tugging the hem out of her pants, he used the slit that'd been cut down the side of both to pull them over her head and down her left arm, dropping them onto the floor.

Rukia leaned back against him, bringing her freed arm over the white camisole covering her torso.

Ichigo carefully pulled the t-shirt up her injured arm and drew its sleeve to her right shoulder. It was oversized on her and slid on easily. He tugged it over her head and helped poke her left arm through the other sleeve, pooling the hem around her waist and thighs.

His blush had intensified as he'd handled the soft skin of her arms, and became worse still as he reached under the shirt to unbutton and unzip her pants. He'd never handled a lady in such a way before and grew annoyed with himself for considering her in such a remiss fashion. _Don't think of this as something more than it is, she's not all here!_ He got an arm around her waist to lift her and pulled her pants down to her mid-thighs, drawing the hem of the t-shirt along to cover her and letting them slide down to her ankles

Rukia wiggled and tilted her feet so they'd fall off, but otherwise stayed quiescent.

Ichigo very deliberately _didn't_ look along her legs and instead grabbed the blanket, drawing it around her and wrapping her up in it. He pulled down his comforter and sheets. She could have probably done with a wash but it wasn't practical right then and she'd saved his life, so. He turned off the light and gingerly picked her up again, helping her onto the bed and pulling the covers over her. "Just rest. I'll be back soon."

"Mmm..."

He watched her for a second, then stood. He gathered her clothes and went to wash her trousers, collect her shoes, and find linens for her.

* * *

Ichigo stood in front his closet in a t-shirt and boxers, fluffing a pillow and setting it on the small futon he'd put inside.

One last time, he checked over the things he'd assembled along the wall for Rukia: a flashlight, two water bottles, her pain medications and the other pills, their instructions, and a note about how to get to the bathroom. Her pants were hanging at the opposite end of the clothes rack, in front of his spare uniforms—he'd been able to empty everything else out.

He stood up straight and exhaled, warding off his weariness, then turned. He could see the covers slowly rising and falling.

Rukia breathed easy, fast asleep.

Making his way over, he withdrew the blanket and sheets from her, picking her up and carrying her over to the closet.

She shifted in his arms just a little, but settled as she was lowered onto the futon, turning a bit with the cutest little coo.

Ichigo blinked and hesitated. At last, he took up the blanket from the other end, getting it over the one she was still wrapped in and tucking it around her.

Rukia grew still again.

Ichigo studied her for a time. Using a delicate touch, he brushed her hair into place and turned, closing the closet door with nary a sound. His shoulders slumped and he brought his forehead to rest against it as a wave of exhaustion rolled over him.

Sighing and pushing off, Ichigo managed to get over to his bed, sprawling onto it and pulling the covers up over himself. He let out a long breath and closed his eyes, sure sleep would take him immediately—red, so much red, dripping everywhere, sticky and viscous and hot and reeking of metal—only to snap them open again.

His heart pounded as he stared at the ceiling.

It was much later when he turned, considering the closet door before blinking as he once more picked up that sweet freesia and ice scent. He glanced at his pillow as he put it together. His gaze returned to the closet. He hesitated, then closed his eyes and inhaled.

Like that, Ichigo was away.

* * *

 **[ A/N:** This chapter was last edited on **March 5, 2018**. **]**


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